


The Spectre of Raven Point

by harrypanther



Series: Paranormal Investigator Hiccup [1]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Halloween, Implied Child Abuse, References to child murder, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 00:21:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21262016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrypanther/pseuds/harrypanther
Summary: Halloween Themed Story/Modern AU: A disappearance and a murder lead part-time paranormal investigator Hiccup Haddock and his team to a grim discovery. Uncovering a decades old secret, can they solve the mystery and escape with their lives? Rated M for adult themes.





	The Spectre of Raven Point

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: The annual Halloween story-this time based on a plot suggestion by Valka 411. A bit of a departure this one as it’s a cross between a ghost story and a detective story. M rating is for references to adult themes and murder. Enjoy.
> 
> Disclaimer: I still don’t own How To train Your Dragon. Rights remain with Cressida Cowell and Dreamworks.

**THE SPECTRE OF RAVEN POINT.**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own How To train Your Dragon. Rights remain with Cressida Cowell and Dreamworks.**

**-oOo-**

Sheriff Simon 'Snotlout' Jorgensen leaned on the hood of his police car and tipped his hat back on his head. It was a cold, foggy night and he would much rather be somewhere warm but instead, he was searching for some stupid teen who had vanished, up here on Raven Point.

Shaking his head, he patted his pockets down and fished out a cigar, lighting up and sucking on the half-smoked butt. His stocky and not especially tall shape strained the buff uniform of sheriff and he sighed as he waited for his deputies to arrive. In the insular town of Berk, roles in the community tended to run in families and the Jorgensens had been Sheriffs for five generations, serving bravely and decisively-though not always effectively. Case in point: his Uncle Griplout, who had been one of the worst Sheriffs in history, what with him having no arms after that legendary freak mutton accident. Anyone could have done a better job-but he was a Jorgensen so he had been awarded a role he couldn't possibly perform. Even Snotlout's own father Spitelout had been an improvement-though not much, Snotlout had privately realised. Spitelout-a taller and stupider version of his son who was the ten-times winner of the 'Berk Head-Bludgeoning Championship'-had enjoyed the power but had the worst crime clear-up rate in history-even worse than Griplout. But what else could you expect from a man who bludgeoned himself senseless as a sport?

The rumble of a truck approached and the vehicle almost took him out, screeching to a halt inches from his own police SUV.

"Watch it!" he growled as two lanky shapes leapt out, both dressed as deputies. Tyler 'Tuffnut' and Raylee 'Ruffnut' Thorston were fraternal twins, both blonde and wild with his hair in long dreadlocks and hers in three waist-length fat braids and almost a force of nature. They high-fived and then walked to face their superior officer.

"Okay, Snotboss," Tuffnut said cheerfully. "Why the rush?"

"Missing kid," Snotlout said, puffing on his cigar. He didn't really like cigars but they certainly improved his image as the archetypal hard guy. "Michael Bergstrom, son of the owner of the sweet shop." He paused and fished out his phone, showing a picture of the kid. A young man of sixteen with lightly freckled face, green eyes and auburn-brown hair, grinned back from the screen.

"I've seen him around," Ruffnut mused. "I think he goes round collecting money for the Viking Reconstruction Club of Berk. Nice lad."

"He vanished this evening," Snotlout said. "He was heading up here to meet some friends for a pre-Halloween walk around the woods. He left his parents' house at six but he never showed. His friends called it in at seven when they checked with his parents."

"Who walks around the woods for fun?" Tuffnut asked dryly.

"We used to," his sister reminded him. "But you never stayed in the woods: you went up to the Lighthouse on Raven Point" Her brother's light brown eyes widened in delight.

"The haunted Lighthouse," he said in a portentous voice. "The Lighthouse of the damned. Abandon hope all ye who enter here…"

"Utter nonsense," Snotlout groaned. "He's probably just twisted his ankle and is lying in a ditch hoping for someone to find him..."

"Has he answered his phone?" Tuff teased him. The Sheriff rolled his eyes.

"Probably run out of battery," he shot back. "Teenager, remember? No thought for the future or the consequences of his actions. Not great at planning ahead..."

"I object!" Ruff retorted. "We're twenty-five and we don't do any of that stuff either!"

"That's because you're muttonheads," Snotlout grumbled under his breath. But aloud he said: "Well, now you can. Search Raven-Point Woods-while I go up to the Lighthouse and see if the kid took a short-cut and is waiting for his friends there."

"You want us to search the entire wood on our own?" Ruff asked in outrage. Her brother folded his arms and stood beside her, looking just as peeved.

"Of course not!" Snotlout soothed them calmly. "Call Gustav and get him to give you a hand." And then, as they stood there, jaws dropped, he clambered into his police SUV and headed off into the thickening fog, along the winding road to the coast.

oOo

Slowing almost to a crawl Snotlout still almost missed the end of the road and found himself with his tyres inches from a twenty foot drop onto jagged rocks. Slamming his feet onto the brake, he switched the engine off, though he left the headlamps on and peered into the swirling fog, seeing the straight white striped shape of the Lighthouse rise from its perch about fifty yards ahead. Glancing at his radio, which had not offered any calls from the twins that they had found the missing boy, he shook his head, then grabbed a flashlamp, a second flash lamp and a back-up flash lamp, grabbed his rifle as well as his gun and slowly clambered out.

The truth was that every school kid on Berk had been to the Lighthouse-it was a rite of passage for seniors at their final Halloween at High School. Snotlout had gone with the twins-who had been his friends even then, as well as his weedy little cousin and that girl-Mindy something-he had liked but who had emigrated to Australia immediately after Graduation. Without leaving a forwarding address. Or telling him. He shrugged. But even after all the years, he did recall the unsettling sensation of walking up to the blank door, the cold air clammy and filled with salt and the slam of the waves against the rocks, mingling with the feeling that something very evil was watching him…

He slammed the door after him and carefully made his way down the slick concrete steps and over the narrow path to the base of the Lighthouse. There were stories that the light came on at random times, even though the building had been decommissioned and there was a warning beacon further out to prevent any ships entering the little bay. And Snotlout knew he wasn't the only one who disliked the place. But what he disliked even more was the curled shape, sprawled at the bottom of the three steps that led to the door of the lighthouse, blood pooled under the mangled shape. The dark auburn-brown hair was torn and stained with blood and a slash across the face had taken away the boy's green eyes.

Snotlout's head snapped round as something flew low over him, the whisk of air brushing his face combining with an eerie blood-curdling scream. Panicking, he swung his flashlights round and almost thought he saw a shape flapping away into the fog. Yelling, he drew out his gun and emptied the magazine, firing uselessly into the gloom before the click of his empty gun called him back to reality and the mangled corpse of the boy.

"Damnation," he muttered. "I'm going to have to call him in."

oOo

The dawn scarcely made any difference to the gloom as the black SUV pulled up. Snotlout yawned, necked his fifth cup of coffee and glared at the twins who were arguing over whose turn it was to do traffic control. Rolling his eyes in irritation, he turned to the newcomers as the car doors opened and three people emerged. The first was a tall, lean shape with rather messy auburn hair, bright emerald eyes and a handsome, sharp-jawed face with a few freckles and mild scruff on his jaw. Wearing brown leather pants and boots and a leather jacket, unbuttoned to reveal a deep red open-necked shirt, he limped slightly as he walked but there was a quiet confidence in his face. The second was a beautiful blonde wearing a leather headband, her toned shape sheathed in combat trousers and boots, a baby blue lycra top and with various weapons strapped to her body. The last was a studious-looking rather husky man with a round face, pudding bowl blond haircut and a rather impressive braided horseshoe moustache. He brushed down his tweed jacket and blinked as he glanced around.

"Oh dear," he said. Snotlout walked forward.

"Thanks for coming, Hiccup," he said, sticking his hand out to the auburn-haired young man. "I mean it, cuz. I know I'm not your favourite person."

"That may be the understatement of the decade," Hiccup said, staring at his cousin. "But I always promised I would come if you needed me, Snot." Snotlout grinned.

"Admit it," he said suddenly. "You are in awe of my awesome manliness, right?"

"Not even slightly," Hiccup told him spiritedly. "I'm very happy with where I am."

"But you're an Architect off island," Snotlout pointed out. "Your Dad is Mayor and he's really hoping you'll come back and take over from him before he has to retire…"

"And I made it clear I wanted something different," Hiccup told him. "Berk is a small island and there is a huge world out there. I'm not Mayor material-I'm an engineer. I build megastructures for the twenty-first century all over the world, rather than worrying about Silent Sven's sheep escaping into the Plaza again…"

"Huh. Are we not good enough for you with your fancy college degree?" Snotlout snarked.

"Three actually," Hiccup said. "And not much call for my skills on Berk. That's why I work away. Berk is my home but I can't stay here."

"Too much competition?" Snotlout continued. "Scared number two will turn out to be number one?"

"Snot-if you want to run for Mayor, knock yourself out," Hiccup told him honestly. "My Dad would prefer to keep it in the family." Puffing his chest out, Snotlout pointedly polished his badge.

"I'm a Jorgensen," he told his cousin proudly. "I'm the Sheriff."

"So was your Uncle Griplout," Hiccup pointed out. "Look how well that went. He ended up killing himself crashing down that ravine because he imagined he could drive using his teeth to go to intercept that armed robber…" Slowly, Snotlout nodded. He was extremely thick-skinned and not overly bright but even he could see that limiting certain positions to only those in one family wasn't the best for the community.

"There's been a murder," he said quietly. "At the Lighthouse. So I need you."

"I thought you were the Sheriff," Hiccup pointed out.

"I need a paranormal investigator," Snotlout said without embarrassment. "And you're the only one I know."

"Part time," Hiccup admitted. "And okay-that's why I brought my associates. Finlay 'Fishlegs' Ingerman who is my real paranormal specialist and my ferocious fiancee Astrid Hofferson…" Snotlout's attention turned to the blonde woman, her hair braided over a shoulder and blue eyes inspecting him closely. Instantly, he adopted a cheesy grin and sidled closer to her.

"Well, hello Babe," he sleezed. "Wanna dump this loser and go out with a paragon of manliness? I was the Prom King, College Football Star, ace quarterback and now Sheriff. You look like a woman who appreciates a man in uniform…"

"Ugh," she said, reaching into her pocket and puling out a twenty dollar bill. Immediately, she handed it over to Hiccup, who grinned.

"Thank you kindly," he said brightly. Snotlout frowned.

"What?" he asked.

"Hiccup bet that you would hit on me the moment you actually looked at me and I wagered that no man in a responsible position in the community would be so pathetic and immature. I lost," Astrid told him sharply. She was interrupted by gales of laughter from the twins who were falling about laughing. They walked forward and offered their hands to Hiccup.

"H. Good to see you, man," Tuffnut said.

"Is it?" Hiccup asked, perplexed. "Last time I was on Berk, you turned me green with one of your asinine pranks." The twins roared with laughter.

"One of our finest-the Chartreuse Menace," Tuff exulted as Astrid stalked forward.

"You are not turning him or anyone else green!" she snapped, backing the twins up against Snotlout's car. "Understood?" And she poked them hard in the chest with her finger. They both cringed.

"Who's the violent Valkyrie?" Ruff asked.

"My girlfriend," Hiccup explained. "My very _very_ protective girlfriend. Who hates the thought of people deliberately targeting me and humiliating or hurting me." There was a collective gulp as Astrid walked pointedly to his side and slipped her arm through his.

"You okay, Babe?" she asked him and he smiled.

"I am with you here, Milady,' he told her reassuringly and then the smile fell from his face and his expression hardened. "So what's the problem with this murder that the admittedly none-too-bright local PD can't manage, Sheriff Snot?" Snotlout sighed.

"It's at the old Lighthouse-you know that spooky place that scared us all half to death when we were seniors?"

"I'm sure…"

"Look-it was a sixteen year old kid who looked like he was ripped apart. No human could do that!" Snotlout argued.

"Why was he at the Lighthouse?" Astrid asked.

"Everyone in Berk goes on Halloween," Hiccup explained. "Usually Seniors…"

"He was only a Sophomore," Fishlegs murmured, making notes on a pad.

"Kid was popular and wanted to show how brave he was," Snotlout explained. "He left home, never met up with his friends and was found on the steps of the Lighthouse."

"A Bear?" Fishlegs suggested.

"None on Berk," Snotlout replied.

"Wolf?"

"None on Berk."

"Dragon?"

"None on Berk."

"Tiger?"

"None on Berk…"

"Okay, we get the idea…" Astrid snapped. "So do you have any wild animals that could cause such injuries?"

"Yaks. And sheep. Oh-we also have a few boars but they never come near here…" Snotlout murmured, thinking.

"There you are…" Astrid said but Hiccup shook his head.

"Why would a forest creature chase a young boy all the way along a long narrow concrete causeway and gore him neatly to death on the steps of a place they always avoid?" he murmured.

"Always?" Fishlegs asked and Hiccup nodded.

"There were studies in the 1990s of their behaviour," he revealed. "When I stumbled over them when I was looking into paranormal phenomena as my Minor during my Architecture degree, I realised there was something there. Fish was my best friend at College and he shared my interests so we ran studies. We ended up publishing six papers, getting a degree in Parapsychology and starting the agency." His brows furrowed. "I think Snot may be right-there is something weird going on." He walked forward and rested a hand on Snotlout's muscular shoulder, looking directly into his eyes. "Okay-without any exaggeration, embellishment or downright fabrication, tell me precisely what happened!"

oOo

The lighthouse rose a hundred feet above them, the dull grey clouds turning the panes of the lantern room almost opaque, the rails of the Main Gallery beaded with condensation from the swirling tendrils of fog. The dizzying, gently sloping walls were mainly white with a spiralled red and green stripe running round, almost making the tower look like a giant stick of seaside rock. The heavy studded door was painted black and stood ajar, a bloody handprint smudged onto the white-painted frame. If you shuffled sideways, you could see the stores in the single ramshackle outbuilding, the outboard hanging from its pulleys, ready for deployment.

"Should this be open?" Fishlegs asked, frowning. He tried to peer inside but the interior was swathed in gloom.

"It's supposed to be locked at all times," Snotlout murmured. "When the last lighthouse keeper left, he took the keys and lost them. No one has been in there for fifty years."

"And I suppose you don't have the police master key?" Astrid asked sarcastically.

"It doesn't work on the Lighthouse-believe me, I've tried," Snotlout admitted.

"So have we!" Tuff admitted.

"Many, many times-what's the point of a master key otherwise?" Ruff added.

"So who opened it?" Hiccup asked, clicking on a small powerful flash lamp and peering into the tower.

"Could I just point out that it's a cold, damp foggy Halloween day and we're about to go into a mysterious lighthouse that everyone avoids and should be locked anyway but isn't and where a kid has been horribly killed?" Tuff piped up.

"Your point?" his sister asked him and he shrugged.

"Just wanted to put it out there because any sane person would point that out and then run very fast in the opposite direction," he explained and then grinned. "Now let's go into the spooky horrible place and get scared to death!" Hiccup sighed.

"You know-you don't all have to come," he suggested but Snotlout folded his arms.

"This is a live murder investigation and the murderer could be hiding in there, hoping to pass off this crime as some supernatural thing," Snotlout told him. "I have to come…and so do my deputies…"

"Again-why?" Astrid grumped. "I'm more than capable of protecting you all."

"Wow-but this is going to be awesome!" Tuff gushed. "There is no way we're missing this!" Shaking his head. Hiccup inched forward, rested his hand on the clammy wood, hearing the shriek of the gulls overhead, almost like screams of pain…and then he pushed the door open.

The space that yawned before him was surprisingly large, the roof to the next room about twenty feet above them. A little light filtered in from the door and Hiccup's flash lamp scanned the space as he walked carefully in, his steps loud on the concrete floor as he quartered the room before finding the light switch and flipping it on. Nothing happened.

"Spooky." Tuff murmured, crowding in behind him. Astrid walked past, her flash lamp held professionally above her head while Fishlegs trailed along, a device beeping softly in his hand. Snotlout walked in as Ruff sprinted to the far side of the room, rummaging in the small cupboard that was sitting there. Apart from a plain wooden table, there was nothing else.

"He may be upstairs," he murmured gesturing to the steps that ran around the wall and rose to the next level as the door suddenly slammed behind him. Everyone spun round and Snotlout tried the handle-but the door wouldn't budge. "Jammed," he said. "Must be swollen from the spray…"

"If it was swollen, it wouldn't have closed," Astrid pointed out.

"Well, it was caught in a gust of wind…" Snotlout tried.

"Except there's no wind," the blonde woman said shortly. "We have fog. Any wind dissipates that immediately."

"And the wind would have to have blown from inside the lighthouse to slam the door," Hiccup added.

"Well, it's stuck tight," the Sheriff told them sharply. Then he rolled his eyes. "I'll call Gustav and he can get Sven and Bucket to come and force it open…"

"That…would be wise," Hiccup said, sounding strained. He briefly closed his eyes. Fishlegs was nodding.

"What?" Snotlout protested.

"There's a lot of activity here," the husky man said thoughtfully. "I haven't ever seen readings this high." Astrid snatched a mini-crossbow from her hip and cocked the mechanism in one skilled movement.

"Any vector?' she asked. Hiccup shook his head and pulled a pair of very large spectacles on, one with a yellow lens and the other a blue one. He frowned and slowly turned through a full three-sixty.

"Diffuse," he murmured. "But a strong cloud by the door." Snotlout screamed and jumped away from the area, standing behind Fishlegs. With shaking hands, he fished out his walkie talkie.

"GUSTAV!" he hissed. "This is Sheriff Jorgensen. Respond! Come back!"

"…"

"GUSTAV! Get your scrawny butt up to the Lighthouse five minutes ago!" Snotlout hissed.

"…"

"GUSTAV! If you don't respond in one quarter of a second, I'll have you patrolling outside the old folks' home for the next ten years!"

"…"

"It's just static," Astrid commented shortly. "The walls are solid granite. Your walkie talkie can't get through."

"And neither can our phones," Fishlegs added, checking his handset: NO SERVICE.

"You get up to the Main Gallery or the Lantern Room and you'll be able to get a signal out," Hiccup sighed. "Snot-you probably need to call for help. It may take some time to unjam the door and you can't leave Berk with almost the entire police force locked in a lighthouse…"

"Look, the people of Berk aren't that smart that they will suddenly embark on a crime wave as soon as we're in here," Snotlout retorted as Hiccup sighed.

"You sure?" he asked.

"No," Snotlout admitted. "But the twins are locked in here as well…"

"So the vandalism rate may go down…" Astrid guessed.

"Harsh, A," Tuff complained, folding his arms. Ruff scowled.

"So judgemental," she added.

"But probably true," Snotlout added. "Okay-we go up and see if we can get word out…" Hiccup nodded-and then raised his hand.

"Something's solidifying…" he murmured as the rate of beeping of Fishlegs' machine increased wildly. To Snotlout's eyes, a patch of air grew milky with haze and began to form the blurred outline of a person…blue eyes blazing in the 'head'. Hiccup gently inched closer.

"We mean you no harm," he said gently, his left hand raised, palm forward. "You shouldn't be here. Are you trapped and unable to cross over? Can we help you…?" His skin was mere inches from the spectre now as he lowered his head and looked slightly away. There was a pause-and then the apparition glowed like the sun.

**_MURDERER!_** A shriek had them all slamming their hands over their ears and closing their eyes against the brilliant light that blazed amid the gloom. Simultaneously, Hiccup was tossed across the width of the room and slammed into the door with a sickening thud. He slid down, motionless as Astrid yelled and fired at the spectre with the crossbow. There was a snap and the ghost vanished, leaving them all cringing in the darkness.

"HICCUP!" Astrid was running to his side and fell to her knees as Ruff joined her. Firmly, she stopped the worried girlfriend from moving Hiccup and gently checked his breathing and pulse before putting him in the recovery position.

"He hit pretty hard," she warned Astrid as everyone gaped. "What? I took First Aid Training after Tuff fell off that cliff…" she explained.

"He's got a pretty hard head," Astrid murmured, taking her boyfriend's hand. She could feel the hair on the back of her neck standing up and then she ducked as an old screwdriver clanged into the wall. "And whoever attacked him doesn't seem to have given up." She slid her hands under him and carefully lifted him. "You-get up to the next floor. NOW!" The others needed no prompting as Fishlegs scuttled up the stairs, clutching his detector while Snotlout was hard on his heels. Ruff followed Tuff and Astrid brought up the rear, moving fast as she felt static raise the loose strands of her hair like a cloud and sparks skittered over her studded gloves and the weapons she wore. Suddenly, a force like a hand knocked her sideways and she flew off the stairs…but she was expecting the attack and as they fell, she braced her legs and managed to land safely, rolling with Hiccup in her arms. She threw herself over his prone shape as debris began to fly at them and she batted it away with her arms.

"Boy…something's…pissed him off…" Hiccup said gruffly, his eyes fluttering open. They were dark with pain and disorientation.

"You, I think," Astrid told him softly. "Any suggestions?"

"A spirit this angry has suffered a great wrong," Hiccup murmured. "It showed in the extreme violence of the attack. And we need to uncover what it was and we're most of the way to solving this mystery…"

"Can you move?" she asked him directly, He gave a slight nod.

"I'm good," he mumbled. "My Dad always said I had a hard head…"

"Okay…on the count of three, we run for the stairs…"

"Got it," he groaned and rolled to a crouch.

"THREE!" Astrid yelled and shoved him forward, backing after him and raising a sharpened silver cross in front of her as she faced the dim patch of shining gas. Her voice fiercely proclaimed a protective incantation in Latin as she backed away. In her hands, the cross glowed and the spectre backed up, allowing Hiccup to scramble up to the next level before Astrid carefully backed up the stairs to join them. She slammed the door shut behind them and rested the cross on it.

"Oh great-now we can't get out at all now!" Snotlout grumped.

"Glad to see you're okay, Hiccup-that was a nasty fall," Hiccup said sarcastically, rubbing the back of his head as he scanned their surroundings. "You could really have been hurt. Glad you got out safely." They were in what looked like a living area with a small solid fuel stove and sink to one side, the flue feeding out a tiny window. On the seaward side, there was a wider window displaying the foggy vista. In the middle of the room was a plain wooden table with four plain wooden chairs and a sagging sofa was placed the other side of the solid fuel burner. A small bookcase was sitting sadly on the far wall and a few old photographs were scattered on the table.

"What are these?" Snotlout asked, collecting them up and flicking through the small squares, the muted colours in the old images yellow-tinted images from many years age.

"October 31st 1961," Fishlegs read, peering at pencil writing on the back of one photograph. The hand was the firm round hand of a young child, still learning to write. Then he turned the image over, displaying a little family-a bluff man in work clothes with a reddish beard and thinning reddish thatch, his green eyes squinting against the light; a crumpled looking blonde woman in what was clearly Sunday best for the early 1960s; a small subdued boy of five or six in short pants and striped tee-shirt and a slightly older boy in identical clothes with auburn hair and green eyes standing beside him, grinning. "This must be the lighthouse keeper's family." Astrid turned around to inspect the bleak room and sparse furnishings.

"This is pretty primitive," she commented. "And very isolated. No radio or TV. And no phone…"

Hiccup glanced up, his eyes fixing on the image-and he started. As he had flown through the air, images had sleeted through his mind: of boys playing in the sun and the rain and the fog, of laughter and joy…and darkness and misery. Of fear and despair and finally… He extended his hand his fingers touched the image of the smaller boy, a sigh shuddering through his lean body.

"He died here," he breathed.

"Still no signal," Fishlegs murmured, glancing at his phone.

"You're still surrounded by the granite walls of the tower," Hiccup reminded him. Then he saw a newspaper, discarded on the floor and he turned it over. It was the November 2nd edition of the 'Berk Raider' newspaper from 1961. The banner headline was stark:

**LIGHTHOUSE KEEPER'S SON SWEPT TO DEATH; BODY STILL MISSING.**

The image below was the same one that Hiccup held in his hand and Tuffnut snatched the newspaper, reading aloud.

"_Tragedy struck the old Lighthouse on Raven Point on Halloween Night when Grayson Bergstrom (6) was swept into the sea as he went out Trick or Treating with his older brother Henrik (10). An extensive search has been made but the body is still missing Grief-stricken, Lighthouse Keeper Nosewart Bergstrom and his wife Gerda immediately moved from the isolated location. A temporary replacement will be sought but the tower's mechanisation will be fast-tracked in light of the tragedy._"

Hiccup shook his head.

"That doesn't make sense," he murmured.

"No, it makes perfect sense," Snotlout said. "Kid drowns, never gets buried, haunts the place…"

"That's not how it works," Fishlegs piped up in his best lecturing voice. "Spirits only linger on Midgard if they have an unresolved problem, issue or mission. Such as an unresolved anger or debt…"

"What would a six year old owe?" Tuff asked.

"More like, what was owed to him?" Hiccup murmured. "He's very angry." He looked around. "Fish-with me. The bedrooms should be on the next level. Maybe we can get a clue there?"

"I'm coming," Snotlout said. "I am a professional…"

"I'm not staying behind," Astrid said shortly. "Thor knows what you'll find."

"And we're not staying behind when we're heading upwards anyway…" Ruff pointed out. So in the end, they all headed up the stairs into the next level, where there were two partitioned off sleeping spaces-one with a double bed that still had the quilt on-and two narrow single beds. The group headed into what was the boys' bedroom and Hiccup stared at the beds-then went to the bed closest to the door, peering underneath and feeling amid the frame-to find a little diary. He flicked through it and read a couple of entries-and then he gave it to Fishlegs.

"Let's go," he said and sped to the stairs.

"What's eating him?" Tuff asked, trying to grab the little diary-but the husky man gripped it tightly and carefully folded it into his notebook. "Fishlegs?"

"I'd follow Hiccup," the husky man said. "We all are."

The next floor up was a storage area, littered with boxes of provisions and general storage as well as tools and pages and pages of lighthouse records and weather charts. A table was pushed up to the wall under the stairs that wound around. There were lots of dark nooks and crannies which made the place feel menacing as the twins and Astrid spread out. Hiccup frowned and his head turned-to see the ephemeral shape oozing from the walls.

"RUN!" he yelled as am empty box flew through the air at him. He cringed down-and ducked-as an axe carved the wooden shape in two.

"Babe-follow your own advice!" Astrid shouted at him as she planted her feet hip-width apart and weighed the axe in her hands. "NOW!"

"I think I'm in love…" Snotlout sighed as Hiccup stumbled past him.

"She's taken!" he snapped and grabbed his cousin, hauling him up the staircase. "Look, Astrid is the most badass woman I have ever met. There isn't a weapon she can't use and when she asked me out and found out Fish and I had started the Paranormal Investigation Agency, she went to the Library and found out exactly how to kill every possibly supernatural creature…"

And then the table slammed up and Snotlout pushed him down, the edge glancing his head and stunning him. Hiccup looked up and pulled his stunned cousin aside as the table smashed where he had been lying. He blinked-and then he glanced at the door to the next level. Bracing himself, he managed to manhandle Snotlout into a fireman's lift and staggering up the steps under the unexpectedly heavy weight, stumbling through. There was a scream as Astrid vaulted up to halfway up the stairs, bisected another box with her knife and then leapt through to land by Hiccup.

"Boy-he really does target you," she said, breathing heavily as they glanced around. They had made the Watch Room, the room below the Lantern Room that contained the fuel, the spare lights, the table with the logs, the clockworks to rotate the lamp and a cot for the lighthouse keeper if necessary. There was also a door out to the Main Gallery, the open platform enclosed by the sturdy iron railings that prevented accidental falls as the lighthouse keeper checked outside and cleaned the windows of the lantern room. Hiccup nodded as she gently touched his hand to reassure him that she was safe.

"The readings are almost off the scale," Fishlegs explained, checking three different instruments. "I don't think we've ever encountered a presence this furious-or powerful."

"Ever?" Hiccup asked, checking Snotlout. The stocky Sheriff rolled over onto his side, curled up and began to snore.

"Never," Fishlegs murmured. "These readings are unprecedented."

"Well, the literature does suggest that the angrier the ghost, the greater their power," Hiccup murmured as his eyes trailed over to the diary that was concealed amid Fishlegs's things. There had been many days with sad faces-some of them two or three sad faces and he found his mind drifting to consider what could have made such a young boy so unhappy.

"Children can be damaged so much more if things harm them when younger," Tuff announced suddenly.

"And said damage can irreparably damage their personality and reframe their future," Ruff added as everyone gaped. "What? We've had lots of psychotherapy! We only thought it was fair to do our reading as well…"

"Yeah-it really messes with the therapists' minds when we argue with them about theory," Tuff added. "Happy days. That sixth one couldn't wait to discharge us, could she?"

"She wrote us both certificates stating we were sane," Ruff recalled, smiling. "They qualified us for the Deputy jobs…"

"So did he fall-or was he pushed?" Fishlegs murmured.

"Or did he jump?" Astrid added darkly. "Suicides wander the Realm forever…"

"Except he's not wandering-he's stayed here," Hiccup murmured. "Why? Why return to the place where he was so unhappy? Why remain here?" Then he glanced at the little picture that Fishlegs had paper-clipped neatly to the front of his notepad. "Unless he never left."

"But the paper said…" Ruff began and then her jaw dropped.

"…what the reporters-and Sheriff-were told," Fishlegs realised. "But anything could have happened. It's very isolated here-and no one else would have seen. _Anything_ could have happened…"

"Not anything," Hiccup breathed. "Only one thing could have happened." He sighed as Snotlout rolled over and farted. "SNOT! Breakfast's ready!"

"What! I'm up!" the Sheriff said, sitting bolt upright and blinking. And then he sagged, managing to glare at Hiccup as he realised that there was no sign of food. "That's a low trick!"

"Worked," Hiccup told him bluntly. "Snot-call in your man. We need the door open!" Blinking, the stocky man fished out his phone and grinned then walked onto the Gallery and flipped on his walkie talkie.

"GUSTAV! It's your Boss!"

"_Oh thank Thor,_" a voice came over the crackly line. "_We've been trying to get through to you._"

"We?"

_"__Your Dad and the Mayor have been trying as well,_" Gustav reported.

"Stop messing around," Snotlout told him shortly. "Get to the door of the lighthouse and break it open. We're trapped!"

"_But…_"

"ALL OF US! So blast that door open, no matter what it takes!"

"_Roger that,_" Gustav said as Fishlegs logged onto the internet and frowned, effortlessly entering the online Berk Archives and conducting a quick search. Astrid was sharpening her axe.

"Angry spirit," she murmured and checked her belt pouch. "Hmm…I'm down on Holy Water and I left my best cross a couple of floors down…anything else useful for repelling or ending an angry spirit?"

"Salt works," Fishlegs murmured. "For a few seconds…"

"I've got cloves, crushed pearls, a spare horseshoe, Valerian incense sticks and my vinegar spray," Astrid said, checking her supplies. "And my weapons, of course." Hiccup shook his head.

"That's not necessary,' he murmured. "There is something driving this spirit on…and until we find out what that is…we won't be released." He turned to the stairs and took a deep breath. "I want to talk!"

The temperature dropped precipitously and the lights dimmed. Mist boiled through the floor and coalesced into the shape of the younger boy, translucent and floating a couple of inches above the floor.

** _You think you know…but you don't…_ **

The voice was that of a child, edged with decades of fury and anger and immeasurable hurt.

"I think I do…" Hiccup murmured, inching forward, his hand up, palm-first. "I know that betrayal of trust is the worst. Someone you should trust above everyone-someone who should protect you from everything…and they hurt you in secret. No matter what happens, you have to smile and act as if nothing happens. It's not your fault."

**_IT NEVER WAS!_** the spectre shrieked and Hiccup was slammed back against the door, bowling out onto the Gallery. His flailing hand found the railing and hung on as lightning flashed around him, the lamp suddenly illuminating.

"I understand…" Hiccup coughed.

** _You can't!_ **

"I do…" Hiccup explained, trying to catch his breath. "My cousin used to bully me badly. He was kin…I should have been able to rely on him…but he got me lost in the forest…and when I was a Freshman, he played a prank that ended up breaking my leg really badly. I almost died, trapped at the bottom of the cliff. But he realised what he had done and he led them to me. We patched up our differences…"

** _That is not an option. He killed me!_ **

"I know. I am very sorry. But you can't go round harming people just because you are angry and hurt. It isn't fair…"

**_You look so much like him… _**The tone was accusing. **_So did he. That's how I knew him…why I had to…_**

"I understand,' Hiccup coughed, hanging on as the wind howled around him and the fog blasted away. The light began to rotate, the beams scouring the skies. "Please-you have to stop. You can't kill innocents…"

** _He wouldn't be innocent…none of them are…they all knew…_ **

"I'm sorry," Hiccup murmured.

** _You look too much like him…_ **

The wind rose to a gale and Hiccup felt himself lifted from the platform.

"I promise I will end this…" he gasped as the twins raced forward, spraying oil at the spectre. Snotlout opened fire and Astrid lunged forward, spraying vinegar, holy water and salt into the mix and then igniting the spectre. There was a deafening shriek and the lantern exploded into flames. The winds blasted out and a wash of blue flames rolled over them all. And then it was quiet-apart from the flames burning vigorously in the Watch Room. Snotlout looked around worriedly.

"Help's on the way," he said. "And here are barrels of oil up here…no point in getting incinerated…" The twins nodded and they and Snotlout raced down the stairs. Astrid looked up, her cheek smudged with charcoal.

"Where's Hiccup…?" she asked worriedly and cast around, her eyes widening as she saw white knuckles grasping the rail…from the wrong side. She peered over and saw him dangling over the drop, the wicked rocks jutting hungrily below him amid the raging white foam. Emerald eyes were wide with an urgent appeal as he kicked hopelessly.

"A little help here…?" he called as she lunged forward and grabbed his wrists, hauling him up. Fishlegs was staring guiltily at his phone and opened his mouth. Gasping, Hiccup landed onto his face on the platform gasping. "Thanks, Milady…" he sighed.

"Any time," she told him gently. "You wanna stay here and be cremated or shall we escape?"

"I think…option B," Hiccup said. "And unless it's an immediate matter of life and death, tell me later!" Then he scrambled up, grabbed Fishlegs's arm and sprinted past the raging flames for the staircase. But as they went down, the flames exploded around them. Astrid grabbed her cross as they passed and sprinted downwards. But when they hit the bottom room, they found the twins and Snotlout hammering at the door.

"It's still jammed!" Snotlout wailed as they hammered away.

"Use the table as a battering ram," Hiccup told them as he grabbed Fishlegs. "You're with me…"

"What?" the husky man eeped.

"What did you want to tell me?" Hiccup asked determinedly.

"I was looking for anything I could find on the disappearance of Grayson Bergstrom," he revealed. "But there was really only what they put in the paper. No one questioned anything. You think the father was abusive?" Hiccup nodded.

"I am absolutely sure he was," he said, walking across the floor to the furthest point and moving the cupboard to reveal the trap door to the cellar. The sounds of the table slamming into the door were loud in the space.

"You know, Berk has one of the highest rates of child disappearance in the world?" Fishlegs asked him softly. His head snapped up.

"What?"

"Berk's a small island and any loss is magnified because we are small in numbers," Fishlegs reminded him. "It's spread out over the years but every year or two for the last fifty years, a child of five or six has gone missing. There have been reports they were seen close to the Lighthouse or in this general area, hence the reputation of the place being haunted…but no one can get in. The keys have been lost and no one ever wanted to return…"

"They should have looked…because _someone_ would have the keys," Hiccup murmured, his fingers closing on the ring on the trapdoor. "But of course, the Sheriff was always a Jorgensen-and for them, no job that's at all difficult or irritating should be attempted…" Gritting his teeth, he hauled the heavy wood trapdoor up and clicked his flashlight on, peering into the gloom. He wrinkled his nose at the muted but distinct scent of putrefaction. Fishlegs looked over his shoulder.

"Oh dear…" he said, going green. "I…" But then there was a crash and the door exploded inwards as a huge man of almost seven feet and close on four hundred pounds of muscle and sinew kicked the door in. His flaming red beard and hair were familiar as Hiccup looked up in surprise and shock.

"Dad!" he said in relief and rose, allowing the trap door to slam closed. "Come on, Fish. We need to go…"

Mayor Stoick Haddock urgently ushered them out and ensured his son was out before he finally left the room-as the stair finally caught fire and the floor from the next story up collapsed in. Flames blasted out of the doorway as everyone ducked and ran for cover. Glancing back, there lantern room was just a mess of flames, there was fire coming through every window and roaring out of the door. Hiccup sighed.

"I'm not sure how Snotlout is going to explain that in his report," he murmured.

oOo

The house was a small unassuming cottage built of granite with a picket fence, flowers in the front yard and a bird bath. The black SUV pulled up by a letter box marked BERGSTROM and Hiccup sat back in his seat.

"Are you sure about this?" Astrid asked from the passenger seat.

"Fish confirmed on the Register of Births, Marriages and Deaths," Hiccup said softly. "And the Electoral Roll. There can be no mistake." Then he opened the door. "You with me, Milady?"

"Always, Babe," she smiled and scrambled out. There was a pause before Fishlegs emerged, his eyes thoughtful as he glanced at his friend. But Hiccup was already striding to the door and ringing the bell, then standing back. Unregarded, the police SUV pulled up behind them. There was a pause and then an old man opened the door. He was a head shorter than Hiccup but he still had green eyes, though they were little faded with age, and his greying hair was still noticeably auburn-brown in places.

"Henrik Bergstom?" Hiccup asked as the man nodded.

"Who're you?" he asked warily. "I'm not speaking to any more reporters…"

"I'm not a reporter," Hiccup said. "My name is Hiccup Haddock. These are my associates Astrid Hofferson and Finlay Ingerman. We have been helping the police solve the mystery surrounding the death of your grandson Michael. I am sorry for your loss." Pressing his lips together, the older man nodded. He was of powerful build, a bit shabby and wearing an old cardigan over a check shirt with beat up jeans.

"It was a terrible shock," he said and his face expressed his bewilderment. Hiccup nodded.

"It's always difficult to lose a child," he said genuinely. "The loss of all those years of promise, all that life torn away in a violent, brutal act…it must be heartbreaking."

"My son, Harild, is completely distraught," Henrik admitted.

"It must be a terrible time for you all," Astrid added. "And his mother…"

"She's flying in from the Mainland," Henrik explained. "She and Harild separated when the kids were a bit younger."

"Of course, he was your grandson…" Hiccup murmured. "You wouldn't want him dead…only the sons of other men…" Henrik stiffened.

"What?"

"When you were only ten, your own brother died," Hiccup added as Snotlout and the twins walked up behind him. The older man frowned.

"I don't see why you're bringing that up at such a terrible time," he commented, his tone growing angry.

"Of course, he never fell into the sea," Hiccup told him flatly. "He had been abused for some time and when he threatened to tell his teacher, he was murdered and his body put in the cellar under the Lighthouse." Henrik's eyes widened.

"What?"

"Surely you knew," Hiccup told him scornfully. "Your beds were a couple of feet from each other. There was no way that anything could've happened without you knowing…" And then his brows furrowed and the pieces finally fell into place. "Except _you_ were the abuser, weren't you?" The man looked outraged.

"I want you to leave…" he growled.

"Your father had abused you-but he didn't touch your brother. You did that," Fishlegs said. "And you killed him. You all left the Lighthouse and moved to town, in this very house! Your father died when you were eighteen and you went to work at the school after you Graduated. Everyone knew and trusted you…but working there meant you had free access to the wee ones."

"The first boy who disappeared was in 1970, when you were 19-a year after your father's death," Hiccup continued. "Every year or so, you groomed and abused a boy…and when they threatened to tell, you disposed of them. Some didn't and you let them go. I have seen the bodies, dumped like trash in the cellar under the Lighthouse…"

Henrik went white.

"How-how did you get in?" he breathed. "There is no key…"

"Except the one you have in your possession," Hiccup told him in a hard voice. "Sheriff Jorgensen has a warrant to search everything you possess and I am sure he'll find it. You were the only one with access to the Lighthouse...and the time frame works only for you. And DNA is so powerful that the pathetic bones that are left will yield more than enough to identify the victims."

"And you had plenty of access to them through your work…and later, when you helped in your son's sweet shop," Astrid added. "Means, motive, opportunity."

"Grayson saw it all," Hiccup said tonelessly. "That's why Micheal had to die. You would use him as you used your son to keep on abusing, keep on killing. The cycle must end. You must finally face justice."

"Gray is dead!" Henrik snapped. "I strangled him myself and dumped him in the cellar. I told Mom and Dad that their precious boy had fallen in the sea. Dad always loved him more than me, always want him to take over as the Lighthouse Keeper…but I hated them…and him. I made sure he suffered like I suffered. I killed him!"

"Thank you," Hiccup sighed, sagging and stepped back. Snotlout immediately walked forward, grasping Henrik's arms and snapping the cuffs on.

"I am arresting you for the murder of Grayson Bergstrom and on suspicion of the murder of several other children," he said. "You have the right to remain silent but you should mention something which you may later rely on in court."

"How did you know?" Henrik asked, craning his head and looking at Hiccup. There was a pause and suddenly, the temperature dropped and fog enswathed them all. The shape of Grayson emerged from Hiccup, who dropped to his knees, exhausted. The ghost shone like a star.

** _I saw everything!_ **

Henrik screamed as the ghost merged with his shape and he thrashed, choking, clawing at his neck, his eyes bulging. Slowly, his lips turned black and then he collapsed to the ground, lying still. The ghost floated up, seeing the others back away and Astrid raised two plant misters. Mercilessly, she sprayed the apparition as Fishlegs looped a chain around Hiccup's neck, bearing an inscribed cross. Fearlessly, the husky man stood between his friend and the apparition then cast a powder including salt, charcoal, cloves, clover and Valerian at the spectre.

"Leave him alone!" he said fiercely. "I knew you were in there! But Hiccup wasn't fighting you so I knew he wanted to give you a chance to have your justice…but in return, you have to go. Leave him alone!"

The shape looked up, blue eyes glowing sadly.

**_I couldn't save any of them…and I regretted the boy but it was the only way to bring it to light...and stop him taking any more children…_** He paused and bowed his head. **_Thank you. I can finally rest…_**

Even as the words were being spoken, the shade was fading and finally, like fog dissipating in the sun, he was gone. Snotlout stared at the motionless shape of Henrik and scratched his head. Ruff unnecessarily checked his pulse.

"I guess we ought to call 9-1-1…though probably we ought to tell them not to run any red lights," she commented. Snotlout holstered his weapon.

"You know, there is no way I can put this in my report," he muttered. "This would be even worse then when Hedgelout claimed that a boar stole his wagon and used it to raid Silent Sven's Bargain Beer and Mead…" Ignoring him, Astrid walked to Hiccup's side and crouched down, pressing a light kiss to his lips-and he responded immediately, sinking his hand into her hair and deepening the kiss…until he finally had to surface for air.

"You knew?" he mumbled. She nodded.

"We both did," Fishlegs commented. "You're a decent man-but you didn't twitch when you saw all those decomposed corpses. I felt sick…but you didn't flinch. Because you already knew what was in there. He knew...and you weren't in control, were you?"

"I promised I would help him if he let us leave the Lighthouse," Hiccup explained. "And you, Milady?"

"You didn't kiss me," Astrid told him. "We had just escaped a collapsing Lighthouse and apparently destroyed an apparition. And you had almost fallen off the Lighthouse. Normally at least I get a kiss for saving your life!" He rested his forehead against hers for a second.

"Did I make up for it just now?" he checked and she grinned.

"Oh, more than made up," she smirked as she helped him up. "Now, I think you owe me a coffee…"

"And what am I going to do?" Snotlout protested. "I've got two dead bodies…"

"And the cellar under the Lighthouse has the bones of about twenty five murdered young boys including Grayson Bergstrom," Hiccup told him. "Once the fire is out, you can get them forensically examined and say that Henrik confessed and then collapsed and died. It's a bit melodramatic but you can't mention the ghost…"

"Awww!" the twins pouted but Astrid linked her arm with Hiccup's.

"My blood caffeine levels are dropping and your Dad told us to hurry back so he could make you his special macchiato," she reminded him as they walked past the perplexed looking Snotlout. Hiccup patted him comfortingly on the shoulder as they walked by.

"Later, cuz," he said cheerfully. "Call me any time you a ghost exorcising and a mass murderer catching!" Smiling, he opened the door of the car to allow Astrid in. "And happy Halloween, Sheriff Snotlout!"

**The End.**


End file.
